


Reconnecting

by BaffledFox



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Jack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Emotional Porn, Enemies to Lovers, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Gabriel, PWP(sort of), Sex Pollen(sort of), Sombra is the catalyst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaffledFox/pseuds/BaffledFox
Summary: Two old enemies find out they didn't use to be enemies.Trapped in a warehouse, a suspicious gas forces Gabriel into heat and Jack into rut.





	1. Warehouse

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just emotional porn. I love the "reveal", I can't get enough of Jack and Gabe meeting each other again for the first time, so I wrote my own. 
> 
> This was supposed to stop at 1 chapter, but the 2nd chapter popped in there, so you guys get both. I'm leaving this fic as closed, for now. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. c:

Reaper got roped into this mission because Sombra had told him it was extremely important. Supposedly there was a piece of technology she needed to have retrieved, and Reaper was the best for the job. 

Alone, she insisted. 

There probably wouldn’t be any enemies, or so she said, basically assured. The technology was in a warehouse, down by the docks, locked up and well taken care of. There was an access point through the vents, which would be easy for Reaper to get through if he dissolved into mist and ghosted right inside. 

Simple, in and out. 

Reaper had wanted to refuse, she knew what time of the year it was for him. Her voice was silk in his ear, urging him through the loops he needed to go through to get to the destination at hand. Her voice melting into the background, almost grating on his nerves because he had felt the itch of his heat that morning. 

Instinct didn’t want him this far out from his territory, the safety of his den. It didn’t matter that he could kill just about anyone he came in contact with. Those he couldn’t kill, couldn’t kill him, so he was hardly at any disadvantage. But, it still didn’t feel right to be outside during this time, even if it had just started. It wouldn’t get real bad, not until the second or third day, he had nothing to worry about.

Especially since he was already in the warehouse, already on his way towards the target. 

If he was in his right mind, he might’ve picked up on how this was a set up. How odd it seemed that a piece of technology Sombra coveted was inside an empty warehouse. That’s what this was, empty. He couldn’t sense anyone, even before she confirmed it in his ear; the static from the ear piece irritating him. 

It was dark inside, two floors. Clean, which should have been another red flag. The place was mostly stainless steel, the floors wood, but the walls some type of reinforced metal. The doors were solid, there were no windows, only the vents near the top which had small oscillating fans to circulate air from outside. That was how he had got in. 

There wasn’t any light; his view a hazy sort of red from his enhanced vision as well as the lenses from his mask. There was minimal furniture, everything looking almost medical with how sparse everything was. With his mask on he couldn’t get any direct scents, mostly filtered through; though the air smelled stale despite the obvious circulation. 

That meant it hadn’t been inhabited in a while. 

Reaper had stopped on the upper floor, mid step down a long hallway. 

There had been a noise, a hiss of metal on metal somewhere in the facility. Like a door opening and closing, maybe. 

He growled low to himself, Sombra confirmed one hostile, on the lower floor. Gave him a specific update as the intruder cautiously moved through the building. Reaper moved soundlessly over to the railing, listening to the barely there footsteps of the unknown person, knowing soon they’d run out into the open area just below his perch. He let his figure evaporate slightly, just enough to melt completely into the shadows; the ominous red glow of his eyes surveying the area below.

It didn’t take long before the man appeared, his footsteps stopping as he briefly hesitated in the center point of the room. He looked up, bypassing Reaper, his visor glowing a muted red in the lack of light. 

Soldier 76. 

The vigilante that had been a thorn in his side since his resurrection. It was just like his luck that the man would show up now, in this place, right on the cusp of his most hated time of the year. Reaper hadn’t meant to, but his figure became solid again, his hands clamping down on the polished bar of the elevated platform he was on.

The noise and movement caught Soldier’s attention. 

“Reaper.” Came the deep rasp of a voice; grating under his skin. He hated when Soldier talked; it felt like he was poking at an open wound, something familiar in the tone that he couldn’t readily place. 

“Soldier.” He hissed back, talons hooked over the bar, creating a metallic sound as he surveyed the other man. 

Soldier just stood there, his pulse rifle lax in his hold, his back straight. Arrogant in his stance; but they’ve had this fight before, countless times. Soldier always tried to intercept him, always dogging his heels; it wasn’t unusual or suspicious to find Soldier here.

Before either men could react to anything else, there was a sound of metal above, immediately both of them looked up to the ceiling to see the vents shut. But, there was no other readings in the building that anyone else was present. 

There hadn’t been a security system either; Sombra had hacked it down, a reason why Soldier had probably came in while it was still offline. Had it come back online? Had there been an issue? 

 

“Sombra.” Reaper growled into his comm, but he was met with silence. 

That wasn’t right. Sombra was on base, there wasn’t anything that could have possibly happened. He didn’t think anyone could have interrupted her hack, there were few who could disable it and he was positive those few weren’t guarding this warehouse. 

He clicked the comm off and on a few times; trying to get a signal, but there was nothing.

Down below Soldier seemed to also understand the plight they both were in, he had ran to a nearby door, started to try and jostle it open. He even rammed it a few times before he tried to shoot at it; which did nothing, the doors were reinforced, all it did was add noise to the stuffy environment. 

Soldier cursed, “What is this? A trap?” He snapped up at Reaper, his red visor ominous in the lack of light. 

“Maybe.” Reaper snorted, “But I didn’t set it.” 

“Then who did?” 

“I don’t think that’s the concern right now.” He melted his form, appearing down below, in front of Soldier. He didn’t flinch to the rifle pointed at his face the moment he became solid, absently he nudged the muzzle away from his mask with a claw. “We need to find a way out.” 

Soldier just grunted as he reluctantly set the rifle in a casual position again. Neither wanted their backs to their enemy, so side by side they started to walk. 

Until another surprised happened; the sound of hiss, like a leak in a pipe. 

Both men stopped and surveyed their surroundings, but whatever it was, couldn’t be seen. But it was becoming obvious something was happening, the sound continued and it couldn’t be good, assuming they had just been trapped. 

“Some sort of gas.” Soldier guessed. 

Soldier with his mask couldn’t smell anything, the links at the back of his neck filtered the oxygen in the air around him, that much Reaper knew. However, Reaper’s mask was open, just a black netting underneath the open holes that made up the design of it. His body wasn’t ‘living’ in the natural sense, noxious gases could not poison him in a way that he might die. 

The vapor in the air didn’t smell like anything, but he knew it was there. Something heavy when he breathed in, sat in his lungs like syrup.   
“Yeah.” Was all Reaper offered, with the vents shut, having no windows or other outlets there was no way for him to just melt out of the warehouse. He needed to find an escape route, same as Soldier. 

“Do you know what it is?” Soldier asked, as they walked through the lower level of the warehouse; trying rooms, other doors to the outside.

“No odor. Something heavy.” 

“Symptoms?” 

“None yet.” 

It was easy to fall into conversation with his long time enemy. He didn’t question it, would just make it simpler to figure a plot to get out, then they could get back to biting at each other’s throats. He didn’t have the patience for it now, and if Soldier had anything to say about it, he kept it to himself. 

It didn’t take long to make their rounds, in the lower floor as well as the upper floor. No escape to be had; and the air was starting to feel like molasses. Or maybe it was the fact that his brain was feeling fuzzy. It took too long to make the connection that something was starting to affect him, the gas doing some sort of work on his mental processes as well as his body. 

Reaper was starting to feel hot under the collar, could feel the sweat dampening his skin, saturating the heavy fabrics he wore. He started to feel a crawling sensation; restless, something gnawing at the pit of his stomach--

Symptoms he knew well.

Only no, it couldn’t be happening, because he still had time left for--

“Reaper?” Soldier broke him out of his internal panic. 

Reaper realized belatedly that he had been standing still, stopped completely in the center of the last room in the building. Soldier had probably been speaking to him; but the small talk had droned into a background noise his brain couldn’t process. He shook his head as if it would help, his mouth felt dry when he spoke, “What?” 

Soldier rolled his shoulder in a dismissive gesture, “You weren’t responding. What is it?” 

Fishing for information, regarding their impromptu cage, or the gas, Reaper couldn’t be sure. It definitely wasn’t genuine concern, his weak omega side was trying to nudge him in the direction of the other warm body in the room, trying to tell him things that weren’t true. His instincts to find comfort, to calm, as the gas started to run through his system.

That had to be what it was. 

He didn’t even know what gender Soldier was.

But, that wasn’t something he should even be concerned with, or thinking about. 

“Just,” Reaper murmured, his voice barely a rumble, and quite suddenly he felt dizzy. He reached out to grapple the wall for balance. “I think whatever is in the air, it’s..” He trailed, trying to focus his breathing, realizing that he was panting. 

“Symptoms?” Soldier asked, in a clipped professional way. 

Everything about him was militant, proper, all except the mess of white hair on his head, never laying right. Reaper didn’t know a lot about Soldier but his background was obvious, especially the way he fought, how he held his own. 

Could have been someone he knew from the SEP. 

Reaper figured he was staring again, taking too long to answer; his head swimming over things that didn’t matter right now. He couldn’t focus on their mission to get out when his skin was crawling, when the symptoms of heat were rushing through his body like wildfire. 

He should his head, he didn’t want to say it out loud, didn’t want to explain it. He shrugged out of his heavy coat, letting the leather hit the ground with a satisfying ‘thump’ at his feet. “Too hot.” Is what he managed to say, grit between his teeth as he shucked off his gloves, his shaking fingers grabbing for the belts, buttons and zippers of his armor and pants to try and lessen the humidity that was building on his skin and give him room to breathe. 

Soldier took a step back, startled it seemed by what Reaper was doing. “Hot how?” 

Reaper could only growl, frustrated suddenly with his clothing, and the situation especially. “Just get away from me.” He hissed, kneeling on the floor, unable to keep standing a moment longer as his balance betrayed him. 

“I want to know what it is. I could get affected too.” 

“Keep your mask on.” He said smartly, keeping his own anonymity as he tossed his shirt over his head finally and let his upper half breathe. The air in the room was still heavy, but it wasn’t warm and it felt like heaven. 

Soldier was oddly silent, but Reaper probably knew why. 

His body was a mess of scars; the worst an ugly Y incision on his chest. It was obvious he was dead(rather, died), though Soldier already knew that(but perhaps not in this capacity). He couldn’t care about his curiosity or revulsion, the heat pains starting to run through his body. He leaned heavily against the wall, head tipped down to survey the floor(and a portion of Soldier’s booted feet), his hands touching the lower part of his stomach as if to knead the ache out of it. 

“You’re mated?” 

It wasn’t a question he was expecting, that Soldier would focus on the faded bond bite on the side of his neck. An old wound, older memories. 

“Was.” Reaper grunted, trying to breathe through the pains, the heat. 

Heat was never something he looked forward too, not now. He hadn’t had a partner since his resurrection, and his heats had always been brutal. Now mixed with the chronic pains of his new body, it was straight torture for days until it was finally over.

But this, this felt like something else.

Worse, something brewing in a wave under his skin, he knew at any moment it could crash over him and he’d lose all coherency. For the first time in a long time he was afraid of the outcome of this.

Not that he feared Soldier; but he feared how his body would react to this, hadn’t wanted to look so pathetic and vulnerable under his longtime enemy. 

Though the faceless, nameless man hadn’t taken advantage of him yet, hadn’t even said another word or moved at all. Surveying him maybe, but Reaper still hadn’t looked up, felt he couldn’t. The arousal was running through his veins now, a burning need that had his cock filling and slick starting to dampen his pants. 

Disgusting; to be like this, a panting mess at the feet of Soldier. 

“Go somewhere else.” He managed to say, nearly doubled over. 

“You look like you’re nearly incapacitated. Are your nanites going offline?” 

“Is that concern?” He tried to joke, wanting to push the other man far away before he started to seek him out in his feral need. Didn’t matter what gender Soldier was, it felt like his body needed something, anything, and he had no doubts he’d take whatever he could once he was in the throes of it. 

This feeling, it was becoming more intense. Startling. 

Had to be the drugs, this wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right. 

Soldier didn’t take the bait, instead decided to say, “You look like you’re in pain.” 

What a deduction, assuming he couldn’t see his face through the mask. Though, the tension and Reaper’s body language was obvious. But, what did it matter? Besides, they’re both tried to kill each other multiple times before, so Soldier’s concern was misplaced. If that’s even what it was. 

Reaper moved himself from the wall, wanting to lay out, needing to ease his body out of the hunched up position he was in. He got himself onto his back and goddamn didn’t the cool tiled floor feel like heaven on his skin.

He wasn’t sure if he made a sound, but his back arched and for a moment it felt like everything had gone offline. Just a moment of bliss in the angry fire of pain and heat; without even thinking he grappled to get his pants and underwear off, having already unbuckled his boots where he had kicked those off too. 

Soldier took a step back from him.

Reaper didn’t care.

Naked, the floor was amazing on his skin, he wanted to roll all over it like a dog. His breathing still elevated, the sticky humidity on his face from the stuffiness of the mask had to go. Without thinking, or caring, he took that off as well, finally. 

Immediately he breathed in the thick air, great lungfuls of it that made his entire body quiver. 

His cock was hard, arching up towards his navel, dripping already. His palms were flat on the floor, his back slightly bowed, his legs spread and feet flat on the ground. Shameless in this moment, his eyes closed, almost forgetting Soldier was there. 

With the mask off he could smell the scent of the other man’s clothes; clean, like fresh pressed leather and sunshine. Nothing to hint his gender, neutral almost. Every bit of his skin was covered, after all, like Reaper’s usually was. 

Soldier put his pulse rifle against the wall, kneeled behind Reaper’s head, could hear the squeak of the boots as he settled himself down. Close, closer than Reaper figured his enemy would have gotten to him. He couldn’t help it when he tipped his head back, the omega side of him seeking something, anything, in this moment of pain and need. 

His eyes opened a little, enough to peek red under his lashes as he looked up at Soldier. His mask a glowing crimson, highlighting him under the bloom of light, making his skin appear almost ashen. 

Soldier touched him, his gloved fingertips tracing the scars on the right side of his face, gentle, over the bridge of his nose. 

Reaper wet his lips, he hadn’t been touched gently in a long time. Even before he died; when his relationship with his mate had gone to shit. Bitter with unease and betrayal. Couldn’t help the sound he made, how he leaned into his touch, closing his eyes to savor the rough feel of the glove on his oversensitive skin. 

“Started my heat.” Reaper explained, for the sake of talking, trying not to lose himself already. “Gas made it worse. Forced it, maybe.” His voice sounded far away, fuzzy, barely aware he was nuzzling into Soldier’s palm. 

Soldier didn’t react to his admission; that the shadow monster that he was, was actually an omega. Seemed less of a surprise than his bond bite had been. 

“Gabriel.” The way Soldier said his name, soft, almost reverent. 

“He’s dead.” Reaper said automatically, something he had told himself often. Not wanting to decipher whatever tone that was, or who Soldier could be. Someone from his past, obviously. Someone who had known him. 

It wasn’t important now. 

Soldier took off his gloves, his bare hands touching on Gabriel’s skin. Still feather light, rough but warm. He traced the ugly scarring, with a barely there touch, mapped over the old scars as if he knew them. 

Too intimate.

He should push him away, but he didn’t. Soldier bowed his head, the mask cold on his skin; this close he could hear him breathing, shallow, the hiss of the oxygen tubes in the back of the contraption. 

“Jesus, I didn’t…” Soldier started, stopped, sucked in a breath. His hands were still so gentle, foreign almost as he traced over his chest. “Gabe.” 

It was getting harder to think; the light of the mask almost blinding against him, this close up. But that voice, he almost knew it. 

Soldier reached up, unclipping his own mask and setting it aside. The red hue backlit his expression; older, scruffy, scars across his face. But he knew that face, knew this man. More intimately than he had any other. 

Reaper twisted himself up, sideways, enough to get an arm under himself so he could reach up and touch Soldier’s face. “Jack?” It wasn’t really a question, he knew who he was looking at, even if he could hardly believe it. 

Even if he could hardly believe that they’d been fighting each other for so long before this came to a head. 

Jack’s eyes were dark; the twitch of his lips almost a smile, some watery touch of something that wasn’t quite there. He leaned in, and Gabriel let him; their foreheads touched, their noses, before he leaned in and touched his lips to the side of Gabriel’s neck. 

He let out an embarrassing moan; tipping his head back, exposing his throat willingly. He reached up to lace his fingers in the back of Jack’s short hair, encouraging him. He still felt dizzy, completely out of sorts; a part of him wondered if he was imagining this, if he was imagining all of this. 

But he also didn’t want to break the moment, couldn’t imagine the other man backing off. Leaving him like this, when he needed him so badly. His body was burning for touch, the lust in his belly like a living thing, impossible to ignore as time drew on. 

“Gabi.” Jack breathed against his skin, teeth soft against his faded bond bite. 

Gabriel slipped his hands further down, pushing off Jack’s jacket, the alpha going along with his desperate touches. He breathed in deep huffs of air, catching onto the rich aroused notes of his mate, somehow holding more depth. Probably from the compromised air in the facility. 

Absently he’d nuzzle into the side of Jack’s face as the other man breathed him in, in turn. He needed to feel skin on skin. He wanted to reconnect with his mate, he felt he needed it. They parted only briefly so Gabriel could assist getting his shirt off, working the belt on his pants and helping him out of the rest of his clothes. 

The dark didn’t matter, the subdued light from the visor the only spot of color in the warehouse, splashing red across the long shadows of their bodies. Immediately Gabriel laid his back against the cool floor, pulling Jack over him as if the alpha needed any encouraging. 

The bad blood between them, the old wounds; they didn’t matter right now. 

Gabriel didn’t feel like talking, and neither did Jack. Drugged as they were, maybe it was more than that. A visceral need to connect with his old mate, to soothe the hurt inside both of them. 

It all still didn’t feel real. 

Even with Jack’s warm body against his own, even with his scent in his nose, even with his teeth on his neck. Gabriel just held on, letting Jack ease between his legs to get himself comfortable, knowing what they both needed. 

“Your heats were always bad.” Jack commented, kissing up his throat, not getting enough of the mating mark. Something sweet about it; how lost they had been, even before they ‘died’. Some sort of grounding point, something that did feel real. 

“Worse. This is worse.” Gabriel said, unable to form a full sentence, unable to get a full thought across any longer as he started to fall victim to the drug and his own hormones. “Jack.” 

“I got you.” He said, voice low, a rumbling purr that seemed to vibrate right through Gabriel. 

For the first time since his death, probably the first time since years before that--

He felt comfortable, able to let go, to be vulnerable under the gaze of his long lost mate. 

Jack pushed into him, not wasting time. Gabriel could smell his scent get deeper, falling into the same madness due to the drug in the room. He groaned at the feeling of fullness, the burn of it as Jack seated himself in deep. 

They didn’t need words; not now, not here. 

His nails raked down Jack’s back when the alpha started to pump into him, finding a rhythm, something that was lost a long time ago. Praises, soft words rolling in gravel were murmured in his ear, causing him to gasp and arch, to feel too deeply too quickly. 

They rutted like animals on the warehouse floor, in the dark. 

They had started looking at each other, watching; touching, nipping, and pulling. They ended with Gabriel on his hands and knees, face pressed into the concrete as Jack thrust hard into him from behind. 

The old soldier still knew how to get Gabriel to beg and babble, to melt into his native language as he urged his mate on further. He was nearly sobbing when the alpha had finally knotted him, when he had stuck himself in deep as he came and bit over the old bond bite almost cruelly.

Pain couldn’t piece the pleasure he felt at being full, oh so full, pinned, smothered in his mate’s scent and completely dominated. 

Gabriel’s figure was a hazy sort of solidity, like asphalt in the heat with Jack growling possessively into his throat; teeth still in deep, blood on his mouth. Feral, beautiful, and Gabriel could do nothing but whimper and take it, take all of it. 

They ended up fucking more times than he could count. 

Delirious from the pleasure, their clothing had become a nest at some point, sometime between bouts(if they had even stopped at all, Gabriel could hardly remember). 

Eventually the exhaustion would take them both, the two curled together, still locked tight, dirty with grit and bodily fluids. Purring like teenagers, mouths still trying to kiss and bite at any skin possible, needing the connection where words would not come. 

Gabriel fell asleep for the first time in years trapped in the safety of his mate’s embrace; sated, happy, and comfortable.


	2. Left

When the haze of heat and the burn of drugs are finally out of his system, he wakes up alone. 

The warehouse is quiet, he’s naked but clean, laying on his back on the floor. He can’t guess the time with how dark the place is, but the vents are open. The little fans are whirring slowly and blinks of light keep winking at him as they spun. 

Reaper didn’t feel any lingering pain, or hungover, or any which way. He was awake, and trying to make sense of his foggy memories and everything that had happened. If it wasn’t for how full he still felt, or the fact that his bond bite felt ridged, the scarring deeper even though the nanites had healed it over. 

There was a different ache in his bones now, not heat but longing, a pull. 

The rekindling of their bond, a throb that felt almost palpable. 

Reaper didn’t know how to absorb the information that it had been real, that the moments shared between them hadn’t been a fever dream. That they were on opposite sides of the battlefield and were just as estranged as before. 

He didn’t really know what he had expected, but Jack just leaving him hadn’t been it.

Sentimental maybe, to think this would end any differently. 

He picked himself up off the floor, got himself dressed and found the doors of the warehouse had been opened. The technology he was supposed to find, hadn’t been there. It was hardly a surprise, he had a suspicion brewing and he’d figure out exactly what was going on once he got back to base. 

Reaper didn’t bother to communicate with Sombra, he’d deal with it once he got back. 

o0o0o

It didn’t take long to get back to the Talon base.

Once he got inside, Sombra almost immediately greeted him. He growled lowly as she grinned at his side, completely full of herself and her definite plot. 

“Did you like the little surprise?” She asked cheekily, sidling up to him as she followed him back to his room. 

“Which surprise?” Reaper asked, tone still like gravel. “That you sent me to retrieve nothing, or that you drugged me, or that you left me in a room with the enemy?” 

Sombra scoffed, “Not really the enemy though is he? I found out who Soldier was, thought you’d like to know.”

“Could have just told me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

He didn’t bother to try and shut her out, let her follow to his room before he shut the door behind them. He shrugged out of his coat, throwing it over a chair and setting his mask on the table. Then went to the task of getting the rest of his bulky armor off, his ammunition and anything else he didn’t need right now. 

“C’mon.” She huffed, jumping up to sit herself on the bed, pouting at his back. “I thought it would be a good thing.” 

“He fucked me and left.” He said, hating how the growl of his tone was laced with something so soft as hurt. 

“Gabe.” Came Sombra’s reply, less jovial, no bite to it. 

After he had finished dressing down, just in an undershirt and fatigues he finally turned to the young alpha on the bed. She gestured for him, and despite his better judgement, and a large part of him wanting to be alone, he went to her. 

Slowly he drifted more than walked to get himself to the bed, his body half smog before he solidified on the mattress. She immediately set her hands on him, fingers running through his hair, the other a stable warmth on his shoulder. 

“I can’t make excuses for him.” Sombra murmured when Reaper was no longer growling, when he finally just leaned into her touch. She understood a fresh bond, could see the mark clear on his throat, knew that the man next to her was suffering something of a withdrawal. His mate had left, starving the new bond. 

It was cruel, in a way. 

Sombra didn’t second guess her decision, her choice. She had read up on their history, she knew who both men were, even if she had never formally met Jack Morrison. This was what needed to happen, for the next pieces to fall in place, for Reaper to see beyond the short sight of his rage and revenge. 

It would be good, even if it wasn’t good now. 

Her fingers teased down his neck and back up again, offering the soothing touches that Jack should be giving him. Reaper, despite himself had curled into her, his nose at her hip, and she knew her alpha pheromones were helping. 

“We’re enemies.” He insisted, muffled where his face was pressed, hidden. 

She couldn’t help but smile, “For now.” 

“Why do you always act like you’re ten steps ahead? Like you’re pulling the strings?” He grumbled, but there was a tinge of affection there. 

“I am,” Sombra said arrogantly, “I got everything under control. Just trust me Gabe.” 

He huffed, “Fine.” 

She continued to pet him like a disgruntled cat, “Do you miss him?” 

He didn’t even hesitate, “Yes.”


End file.
